


The Good are Never Easy, the Easy Never Good

by MxrBoneless



Series: All for Freedom and for Pleasure [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Gen, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), I’ll update the cast as we go, Loki is equal opportunity, Loki isn’t sure he appreciates it, No warnings yet but I’ll update tags as needed, Thor didn’t forget to push for the controller of the would be king, and he keeps his brother on Midgard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxrBoneless/pseuds/MxrBoneless
Summary: The prayers have grown loud as of late. A constant litany of chants and hymns that drown each other out in the pain of it.He tips his face up to welcome the winter rain and prays the chill will be enough to chase away his dread. The droplets trickle down his neck and soak through his heavy wool tunic to pool beneath the cold metal of his shackles and drip down his nails. Mud squelches beneath his bare feet and briefly, he feels alive. Where once he longed for anyone to pay him heed, now he yearns for solitude.Loki yearns for much these days.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Loki, Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Series: All for Freedom and for Pleasure [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198823
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

The prayers have grown loud as of late. A constant litany of chants and hymns that drown each other out in the pain of it.

He tips his face up to welcome the winter rain and prays the chill will be enough to chase away his dread. The droplets trickle down his neck and soak through his heavy wool tunic to pool beneath the cold metal of his shackles and drip down his nails. Mud squelches beneath his bare feet and briefly, he feels alive. Where once he longed for anyone to pay him heed, now he yearns for solitude.

Loki yearns for much these days.

His cell beneath the Avenger’s home is fit for a prince of Asgard. The prince that he is no longer—though if Thor refuses to enlighten his friends then Loki is most certainly not going to be the bearer of truth. Just as he does not tell them that he is _Lokke_ , he who invented knots and she who taught the spiders to spin their webs. If they do not know that he remains in his bindings only because he chooses to, then he does not intend on informing them.

Thor, however, most certainly does not need informed and casts a pointed glance of surprise at the manacles. He approaches Loki quieter now than he would have not even centuries ago. Instead of speaking once he’s drawn even, he tips his face upwards as well. Tension radiates from him, but it appears directed towards Loki’s captors rather than Loki himself.

“Will they allow me the luxury of the sun after your return to Asgard?” Loki asks finally. “Without the might of an Aesir, a shorter leash is only natural.”

“I will not be returning, brother.” Thor says.

“And who is to act as regent during the Odinsleep?” Loki asks in his ‘best be reasonable’ tone. It had never been particularly useful against his brother, but that had also yet to stop him from trying. “O—your mother has better things to do than to babysit squabbling nobles.”

“Our mother, Loki.” Thor clasps Loki’s shoulder and for a brief moment it as though they are children once more. “We shared a nursery. She raised you as surely as she raised me and whatever your disagreements with our father, Mother—“

“Hid the truth from me as surely as he did.” Loki bares his teeth if for no other reason than to release some of the fire that burns within his skin. “I know how it galled the lot of you to be seen with me when my only crime was that of seidr. It’s little wonder that they did not wish to parade their shame across the nine realms.”

“If anyone behaved shamefully it was me.” Thor sits down. “Father spoke the truth then. I was unworthy. I murdered beings from other realms as surely as you did. The only difference is that I lacked your reasoning.”

“And pray tell, what reasoning had I?” For a moment longer Loki stands. With his titles and family stripped from him, Loki refuses to debase himself further by stooping in the mud. At least, he refuses to give in so easily. When he glances down at his brother, Thor’s expression has crumpled in a manner that Loki is unused to. It’s far too hesitant.

Thor’s hand lifts to catch his but then recoils as though afraid of rejection. Instead he folds his hands in his lap and stares down at them. “I know not your reasoning, nor do I know why you withhold it but I do know you, my brother. You are not needlessly cruel, not even in your boredom.”

“Did you not hear my speech?” Loki drops to a cross-legged position next to Thor and carefully arranges his chained hands in his lap. The mud seeps through the fabric of his trousers to chill his aesir form. “I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“Aye. I’ve never doubted that.” Thor tips sideways and rests his forehead on Loki’s shoulder.

It is a heavy weight, but Loki does not wish to shake him off. Nor is he inclined to respond. The rain stings now with the beginnings of ice but neither of them make any move to head inside. There are others, watching. Loki is under no illusions that they trust him or Thor. They are not visible though and he can pretend that they are still young and resting after a grand hunt on Midgard. That the Warriors Three are bickering over how to season the meat while Sif sets up the camp.

When Thor speaks again, there is hurt in his voice. “Was it really so bad?”

“Mmm?” Loki does not open his eyes. He doesn’t want the illusion to fade. Even the God of Lies is subject to the limits of suspension of disbelief.

“I am well aware of my faults. You were right to meddle with my naming of regent, but was it so bad to be my brother? That you would tell me Father is dead and send the Destroyer—“

“If I had wanted you dead the Destroyer would not have disarmed.” Loki gives in, but he focuses his stare straight ahead rather than look at his brother. “I needed you off of Asgard so that I might save the Allfather and destroy the Jotuns. I would have recalled you after.”

“That is a relief if nothing else.”

There’s another long silence between them, but this time it is harder to pretend everything away. The prayers grow louder with desperation. Loki knocks Thor’s head from his shoulder so that he may duck his own head between his knees and squeeze. It is not enough, so he hides his head under his manacled arms.

“Loki! What ails you?” Thor stands. His hand already reaches out for the hammer to return to his grasp.

Within seconds another of the avengers, Barton, is at their side with an arrow pointed at them.

Loki pays the threat no mind. An arrow injury would hurt, but he would survive. Thor is already bellowing at his comrade and Loki wants to tell him to cease. Instead he pulls to his own feet. Mud and water and tears alike drip from him. His hair, so much longer than when he was prince, clings to his face. Blue discoloration plays across his skin in patches and disappears in waves. “I will bear this no longer. Return to Asgard and leave me to rot.”

When Barton drags him back to his cell, Loki almost believes that he feels nothing.

—

The spider comes to see him the next day.

It’s unclear why they think that she will be the one to break him. Perhaps it is due to her skill as a spy, perhaps it is that she is a woman. It hardly matters. He did not break last time, whatever she thought she gleaned from their conversation, he will not falter now.

Loki stands to meet her with a nod that he used to reserve for his mother. Now that he has no need to make a target of himself, he does not goad. Instead he gestures to his surroundings with no small amount of self deprecation. “Romanoff. I apologize, but I make for a poor host at the moment.”

“Have you ever been a good one?” She asks with no small disbelief.

It pulls laughter from his chest, true amusement that bubbles up and drowns out the screams. “Once, yes. I’m sure it surprises you to learn that I was the brother inclined towards diplomacy. I helped the Allmother plan banquets and visits from dignitaries both within and without Asgard. Thor was allowed to settle for learning the politics of his people but as the second son I was expected to marry from outside the realm and as such had need of these skills.”

“Poor Loki.” She croons. “Forced to marry a pretty princess. No wonder you snapped.”

“Any marriage contract drawn up was meant for the Aesir son of Odin and is void.” Loki waves the thought away, ignoring the clink of his chains. “I was not informed of any such match however, and I am rather young to marry. Much of the nine realms would have been offended at the offer of a child bride.”

Natasha doesn’t do anything so obvious as blink. Instead her surprise shows in the stillness of her expression and in the twitch of her legs as she shifts weight. “Thor implied he is an adult.”

“Thor came of age very recently and I am Thor’s younger brother.” Loki tilts his head with a furrowed brow. Whatever he expected the spider to come for, it wasn’t his age. “I am not even one hundred years past a thousand. My coming of age will not happen until long after you are gone.”

“How old? If you were human, how old?” She asks.

“Seventeen, perhaps? It is hardly relevant, as I am most assuredly not mortal.” Loki settles himself back on the cot. A perplexing topic to be sure, but he sees no harm in letting it continue. His age hardly played a factor to his recent coup d’état. “Are you offering your hand in marriage? I’m afraid if anyone is likely to unite Asgard with Midgard in marriage it will be my foolish brother.”

She hisses under her breath, eyeing him differently now. Her expression is perhaps even angry. “Your brother has argued that you be tried as a child in Ear—Midgard’s court system.”

“I would be tried as an adult on Asgard.” Loki points out because while he appreciates Thor’s sudden surge of brotherly affection, he fully intends to remain in his prison. “Odin would spare no mercy when he locks me away. Another relic, resigned to a display until he has need of me.”

She leans in. “What are you are you trying to escape?”

“I was captured by Midgard’s Avengers while attempting to overthrow your known world.” Ice creeps through Loki’s veins and he dares not even think the Mad Titan’s name without fear of drawing attention. “I would hardly call that fleeing.”

“You’ve organized your capture twice now, Loki Odinson.” Natasha smirks at him. There is true hatred in her eyes. “What we can’t figure out is why. Wouldn’t you feel safer in the cells of your home world? You would most certainly be more comfortable.”

Loki hums and taps his fingers against his lips thoughtfully. The chains clink together. “Are you familiar with the concept of lies, Agent Romanoff?”

“I’m a spy.”

“Yes. Well, humor me.” He gives he what he considers to be his most pitiable expression. “What is a lie?”

She shifts her weight again. “An untruth.”

“Disappointing. I expected better.” Loki tsks as he stands with a languid stretch. He truly had expected better from her. “Lies are _stories._ And stories have morals, with villains to serve as cautionary tales. I am the God of Lies, of stories. Even Thor knows better than to expect a straight answer from me.”

“What can we expect from you?”

“Stories.” Loki smirks and gestures for her to make herself comfortable.

It gets him a tightened pinch between her eyes.

“In the first, a young prince of Asgard watches as his world is undone by the brother in whose shadow he lives. So he concocts a plan to put off the yoke of his tyrannous elder. But no one is willing to trust the prince. He is betrayed at every corner until he finally falls to his death. Only, he doesn’t die. He lives and he is given the means to raze the world his brother hungers after as recompense. And so he does.” 

The fear in her body language is well hidden, but he sees it nonetheless. There are few lies he cannot see. She gestures for him to continue. “And the second?”

“Perhaps the prince meant only to seek the continued safety of his people. A people he did not entrust with his plan because they did not trust him. And so after his betrayal, he fell and fell and fell and the void was dark and cold. Until it wasn’t. Then the prince was tortured for months, years, maybe only days. It is impossible to know. All the prince knew was that he was given power and a duty to fulfill. If he failed he would be tortured once more and then killed. And so the prince schemes and plots and still he doesn’t trust. The prince fails The Other’s scheme, as he meant to, and lives in a hole built by his usurpers on a planet that contains many other targets.”

“In one of those, you are vastly more sympathetic.” Is all she says. He can feel her trying to tear through his facade to see the truth beneath.

“Decide for yourself which is the more likely. I tire of mortal intellect.” Loki shrugs and plucks up the novel that Thor brought to him earlier. She will twist herself up in knots trying to sort through the stories when neither and both are true.

“Ah, Romanoff?” He waits until she’s at the stairs before he calls to her again. “If you wish for my baser urges to loosen my tongue, you would have better luck sending in the beast.”

—

Loki should not have been surprised they sent him the beast in his human form. He had meant the statement to be a jab at their assumptions, not a summons. Still, he stands to meet his guest.

“You wanted to see me?” Banner picks at the cuff of his button up and deliberately does not look directly at Loki. “Or was it the other guy?”

“In truth, I expected you to be kept far from my influence.” Loki tilts his head, trying to determine the game they play now. “What is it you imagine I know that you would risk the lives of everyone in the building to find out?”

“You said you would speak to me.”

“I said I found you to be a more attractive prospect.” Loki corrects mildly. It’s true. Banner’s intellect combined with his demure twists of the truth is far more entertaining than Romanoff’s heavy handed machinations. “Preferably in a form with which I may converse, but even a berserker is appealing in his own manner.”

“Big, green, and ugly does it for you?” Banner’s discomfort discussing his other form is clear. He must have learned of his own shapeshifting abilities more recently than Loki had suspected.

Loki snorts and waves a hand. “Intelligence is what I am drawn to, Dr. Banner, not form. I am not that sort of hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?” Despite himself, Banner is intrigued as he takes a cautious seat in one of the chairs left for Loki’s interrogators.

With a put upon sigh, as though Loki doesn’t enjoy showing off nearly as much as his brother, Loki allows his body to change. It takes her seconds to adjust to her new weight distribution and longs for something more flattering to this form.

Banner startles. His fear shows naked on his face. “Thor said your magic is locked away.”

“It hardly requires magic to be myself.” Loki retorts, more offended than she thought she could be. “Do you call upon magic every time you change form?”

“I didn’t realize.” Freed from his immediate concerns, Banner takes a seat. This time he sits further back so as to better study Loki’s new form. “So you are a woman?”

“I am Luki.” She spreads her arms as wide as she can with them chained together. “The trickster god of mischief. I take many forms and I am always me, though it is preferred on Asgard I remain a prince.”

“And what you prefer?”

Loki shrugs with a faint smile. “I am what I am, Dr. Banner. Do you prefer one fingernail over another?”

“No.” He shifts his shoulders uncomfortably and removes his glasses to tap them against his palm. “Stark said you would try to provoke me again.”

“I didn’t intend to provoke you the first time.” Annoyed at this line of conversation, Loki waves their hand and settles on a form somewhere between the two previous. “Truly, I find this line of reasoning baffling. I of all people lack the patience to tame a berserker to do my bidding. Thor is the one you should be watchful of. My brother courts battle with more dedication than he courts a wife.

“Thor said you were bored.” Banner says. His lips twist up in a half smile, his words almost a laugh.

Loki pulls a face rather than admit their brother is right about anything. “I find my new halls to be _teeming_ with diversions.”

“So if you don’t want the other guy and you aren’t bored,” Banner tucks his eyewear into the pocket of his button up as he settles more firmly in his seat, “what do you want me for?”

It’s a good question, and one that Loki is inclined to answer for once. “In truth, I was annoyed they sent a woman to seduce me. Surely Thor advised against such a play.”

“He said you wouldn’t speak to Natasha and was surprised you gave anything before.” Banner says. He settled his forearms solidly on his knees. “He didn’t say why. Should we make a note in your file that you prefer men?”

“I have no preference, but I despise assumptions.” Loki stands to their feet, chest puffed out with irritation. “Assumptions are the death of creativity.”

“And you’re an artist?”

“I am a creator.” Loki breathes out heavily through their teeth as they stalk closer. Close enough to slam a fist against the glass to punctuate every statement. “I am the one who taught the humans to weave their fishing nets and gave them stories to tell to their children. While my brother and his friends squandered their power to impress the humans, I am the one who pushed for critical thought. _I_ am the one who calms Thor’s rage when he would smite all other realms a thousand times over. I am the second son raised to advise the throne and I ask for naught in return but the respect I am due.”

“You’re not ‘due’ a throne, Loki.” Banner replies evenly. “No one is going to worship you for your lies.”

Loki stumbles back and sinks into their bed. It’s a true bed with four posters and they have no idea where it might have come from, only that they know it is there through Thor’s influence. Laughter tears from their chest until they are almost screaming from the pain of it. They laugh until they have lost their breath and can meet Banner’s frightened eyes once more. “Who do you think you pray to when you beg to be told you are safe?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter. I used to hold myself to 3k minimums and it burned me out of my last fandom but now I think I just want to let the story tell me how long chapters should be.

Loki is tired as they have not been for centuries. Magic drained and body bruised, they curl up on the four poster bed and pretend they do not see the beast leave. They want to sleep the rest of the millennia away.

“Banner said you still hear prayers.”

Loki’s lip curls with derision, their green-blue eyes narrowed to slits. They do not have both the energy to fend off more well-meant smothering _and_ to silence the screaming. Instead they deflect. “I am the god of lies, brother.”

“And I am the god of thunder!” Thor smashes Mjolnir into the glass and it shatters like ice. The sound is drowned out by a deafening thunderclap.

“You are the god of noise and no better than I am.” Loki doesn’t have the strength to stand and so they instead push up on their forearms and twist to face their brother as they shake with rage and pain. “Odin slept to hide from the Trojan monster he’d brought to his realm while the Allmother worried over his deathbed. Baldur screamed as he has not in centuries at the threat of a war you brought upon us and I was left scrambling to protect a throne I never wanted. What use were my big brother’s storms then?”

Thor drops Mjolnir and it rattles the ground hard enough that the shattered glass chimes from the impact. Loki has no time to escape, only to flinch as they are enfolded in a hold they thought long lost to them. Thor’s chest rumbles with all the promised safety of a storm. “I promised you once. None will raise a hand against you and live. Tell me, who has turned the prince of Asgard against their kin?”

“I am no kin to you.” Loki doesn't scream. They wish to. They wish to scream and rage and fling their seidr across the realm to draw their end to themself all the sooner, but they’re unable to do anything but cling to the mail their brother wears more often than the cloth of court. “I am a treasonous frost giant who knew no better than to aspire above his station.”

“You are my brother, sister, or sibling no matter which form you take.” Thor clasps the back of their neck to pull them forward and press his forehead against theirs, his blond locks spilling over to shield them both from the world. “I promised you this also, did I not?”

Loki shuts their eyes so they won’t see the lock of their own hair braided with his. It is still there when they blink them back open, loudly proclaiming to the world that Thor had mourned for them. They sigh and slip their fingers to the braid, letting it slip through their fingers. “I suppose it had been too much to hope Sif burned it.”

“I was glad she had not, even knowing the danger it had been to you while you lived.” Thor gives Loki a small shake. “You have always been so fastidious to leave no mark on this world, I had nothing else.”

“You could have—“ Loki hesitates as they pull back. “Are my things?”

“Locked away. Mother could not be convinced to send your spirit to Valhalla. I could not take anything without risking her wrath or your spirit’s haunting.” Thor seems hesitant to release them. “Loki, you fell and Heimdall could not see you. Not on any of the nine.”

“I fell without end, Thor.” Loki longs for the rumble of thunder to settle their bones. They long for the desperate hold of their brothers to keep them from shattering apart. They long for their Amma to wake them from a bad dream and carry them to the library for tea and study.

They pull away and don’t look back as they turn away from Thor. “I know not where I was, and I will not return even in my memories.”

It’s a poor lie, but Thor lets them think he takes it as true. He clasps Loki’s shoulder once more. “Mother sends word of her love and relief. She will arrive tomorrow at noon. I thought to warn you.”

The crunch of glass beneath his heavy tread tells Loki of their brother’s retreat. Without even the illusion of a prison to restrain them, Loki holds their head in their hands and screams.


End file.
